Ian came to me one day and asked me how I felt about Bethany. I said I liked her, she’s Emma’s, I mean, Rosie’s best friend. I couldn’t not like her. She’s fun, rambunctious, also one of the better writers I’ve ever met. Emma, I mean, Rosie, couldn’t have found a better friend.

“But do you like her as more than just a friend?” Ian probed further.

Where is he going with this? I wondered. The git must be cooking up something with this line of conversation.

“What would you say if I told you she likes you as more than just a friend?”

Bullshit.

“Bullshit,” I said. Emma, I mean, Rosie would have told me. She would have told me and teased us endlessly. She would have played the annoying matchmaker to no end.

“It’s true.” Ian continued. “I managed to get a peek into one of her notebooks and she was writing all about you.”

Ha!

“I mean, I think it was about you. The description matches you anyway.”

“Many men have died for less assumptions,” I said to him. “In any case, it doesn’t matter. She’s Emma’s best friend. You don’t fuck with your best friends’ best friend.” Or do you? I wouldn’t know, I’ve never had both before.

“So she is your best friend, huh?” Ian said.

“Huh?” I said, giving Ian a puzzled look.

“Rosie. You think of Rosie as your best friend.”

“Well, what else would I consider her?”

“Just a friend.”

Oh. I may have slipped up with that one. Fuck.

“Come on, let’s put it to the test!” And he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me along with him.

Before I knew it, we were in front of Emma, I mean, Rosie, and Bethany. They were deep in conversation when we arrived. As we stopped and both of them noticed us, they looked up to us, and Emma, I mean Rosie, gave me one of her usual smiles.

“What’s up?” she said to me.

Oh nothing I want you to know, I thought.

“We just want to ask you girls something,” Ian interjected.

But of course the fucker wouldn’t let up.

“Who’s your best friend Bethany?”

“What the hell kind of question is that? Rosie, of course!” Bethany answered.

“And who’s your best friend Rosie?”

Emma, I mean Rosie, look up at me with a questioning look, before answering “Bethany, of course.”

Ian turned to me and said “And what about you Dex? Who’s your best friend?” The fucker had a villainous grin I wanted to wipe off his face.

“Not you obviously,” I said.

“Would you guys like to know who Dex considers his best friend?” Ian asked, playing up the suspense.

Bethany nodded eagerly, as did Emma, I mean Rosie, though she looked to me still with that question in her eyes. I gave her a look that said I didn’t know what the fuck was going on.

“Me!” Ian said proudly.

I let out a sigh of relief. Bethany crumpled a piece of paper and threw it at Ian. “way to be anti-climactic, idiot,” she said.

Ian looked at me with a conspiratorial grin and a threat in his eyes. I didn’t mind it at that time as I was thinking about what I saw when he said it was him. For a very brief moment, I saw Emma’s, I mean Rosie’s face go crestfallen before being replaced by a grin as she laughed as Bethany threw the paper at Ian.

It was the fleetest of moment, and I doubted I even saw what I saw. But for that briefest moment, I knew I would never want to hurt Emma. Ever.